Page 96 of Fuse

I turn and brace my stance again, reconfirming my determination. “You heard me. Leave everything as it is. Plugged into the solar inverters.”

“Merde.” Angie’s reentrance, with her mouth agog and her eyes wide, is well timed but still useless as a deterrent. “You…you do not seriously think…” she sputters, “that after just a few hours on Faline’s table…”

“I don’t think,” I snap. “I know.”

She huffs. “Emma, it is not such a simple process as—”

I raise a firm finger. “I know, okay?” And reinforce the point with a direct lock of our gazes, reminding her how much I really do know. Like her, I’ve been locked down on Faline’s fun slab. Had that special firsthand view of all the technology and intricacy that goes into altering a human being’s bloodstream. Personally known the horrifying race of my pulse and hammering of my heart. “I know all about it, Angelique—just like I know that it took her weeks or months to transform most of the others, including Reece.” I straighten my spine while sucking in as big a breath as I can. This time, both moves are strictly for me. I need the fortification to state the rest of my case. “But you weren’t there today, when she was with me.”

Though Alex’s scrutiny tightens the most, it’s Fershan who screws his composure back together first. “What did she do…with you, Emmalina?”

Alex pushes his lips into a harder line. “What did she do to you?”

I make sure they watch me pull in a deep, determined breath. I need to make sure they’re clear about what they’re getting into, despite the fact that I’m not really giving them a choice about it. I just need to know they’ll still be the guys who won’t let the lights go out on me at any part of this—no matter how high I scream or how thoroughly I beg them to relieve the torment.

They have to love me enough to not love me right now.

I won’t ever stop not forgiving you, Velvet…

One more deep breath before I continue my explanation. “Faline kept talking about ‘crash coursing’ me,” I tell them. “And I noticed she had to keep confirming overrides on the machinery’s limits. Nearly all of my settings were pegged way over what the outputs on those things were set for.” I allow two seconds’ worth of a wince across my face. “If the pain was any indication, she was definitely trying to crash something.”

“Mon dieu,” Angie utters.

“So what does that mean?” Alex shifts forward, the corner of his left eye crimping, his open tell of curiosity. “What exactly are you asking us to do that has this one ‘mon dieu’ing on my shoulder?” He uses his right eye to flash a sardonic wink back at Angie.

Fershan puts both eyes into his reaction, popping them wide in a look that’s either total shock or complete horror. Or maybe—probably—a crazy mash-up of the two. “You think we can channel the power into you—and use it to finish whatever the hell Faline started.”

“Holy shit.” Alex’s twinge of mirth has vanished—his stare, swung from Angie onto me. “Is that possible, Emma? Did Faline get that much started?”

I tilt my head, focusing on the rim of gold around his light-chestnut hair. “Depends on what you mean by ‘started.’ Does that lead to the part where everything looks like the gold fairy swung by and sneezed?”

“Quelle?” Angie’s curiosity is a thick current in her query.

I jog a glance back at her before explaining, “Exactly what I’m saying it is.” Then return my stare back to the rest of them, still blinking fast as if that’s going to change the view. “All of you have these…halos now. You look like a season finale of Touched by an Angel. Or maybe Supernatural, depending on which season.”

“My word,” Fershan blurts.

“Holy fuck,” Alex chokes.

“No…no.” The exclamation defeating them both is a wrenching sob on the air. Even before Lydia falls into Sawyer’s comforting embrace, I know I haven’t exactly won over my sister’s vote for my plan.

Not that I’m letting her have one either.

“Honey.” I step over and rub her back. “I’m so, so sorry.” I issue it from the depths of my heart. “But right now, this is the only plan we’ve got.” I demand it from the steeled grit of my will.

The resolve that’s going to get me through hell for a second time.

Because we have to at least try.

For Reece.

For the part of me that can’t live without him.

The part that includes everything except my toenails.

Wait. Wrong. My toenails need him too.

So it’s decided. This will happen—if I want to gain the team a fighting chance of stealing Reece back from Faline at all. I have no illusions that any of this is going to be neat or easy, especially with what I’ve just resolved myself to go through again—but my determination rises by matching degrees, pulsing brighter and bolder through my system before flowing over every speck of my vision. The golden outlines continue for me, many of them like dazzling amber crystals—though once again, living things are the most vivid. Because of that, I focus extra hard on Alex and Fersh. They return the scrutiny right away, and in the reflections of their irises, I see why. My mirror image now looks like some crazy new photo filter, its title likely called something like “Lycan Eyes” or “Wild Golden Girl.”